Firecracker (Honeybridge #1) Read Online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Honeybridge Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
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Dan turned to me, resting his hip against the workbench and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Flynn… Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

I glanced up at him. “No. I’m never sure I know what I’m doing. You think I shouldn’t take time off tomorrow? You’re probably right. That Red Hat tour group is coming in for lunch.” I stuck another cap in the bench capper.

“That’s not what I mean. When JT Wellbridge first came to town, you hated him. He tried to get you to sign distribution rights over to his company, and as soon as you said no, he started wooing you. Suddenly, you like him. Now, he’s taking all of your attention during your busy season. You clock out early on Friday and Saturday nights. You’re rushing Brew Fest prep because of him. You’re gonna ask him for business advice. I find it suspicious, that’s all. I’m worried.”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, to tell him he was wrong about JT, but then his words sank in. “You think he’s only hooking up with me to get me to sign a distribution deal?” I let out a laugh, but it sounded strained, even to my own ears.

Dan’s fingers ran through his short hair. “No. Not exactly.”

“Good, because that’s pretty fucking insulting to both him and me. Besides, he accepted it when I declined the Fortress deal. He hasn’t brought it up the whole time we’ve been… hanging out together.”

“Someone nicknamed the Rainmaker doesn’t give up, Flynn. If you ask me, he’s biding his time before trying again or coming at it from another angle. I’m not saying he doesn’t want you. Maybe he wants you and the deal, but a guy like that definitely still wants the deal.”

I wondered if this was Dan’s jealousy talking. He’d made flirtatious comments to me a couple of times earlier in the summer, before JT started spending so much time here and it became an unstated fact that we were… hanging out. Dan had toned it down a little since but hadn’t stopped completely, and I got the feeling he was biding his time until JT left town. But was he upset enough about it to think the worst of JT?

“Well, he knows he’s not getting it,” I said. “When I said no to the Fortress deal, I meant it.”

“What happens if he sabotages Brew Fest?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I snapped, almost slicing my hand open on one of the bottle cap edges. “He knows how important this is to me. Besides, he’s been helping with prep.” I carefully placed the bottle cap in the bench capper and moved my hands out of the way before grabbing the handle and pulling it down.

“He dropped that case of mead the other day, Flynn.”

My pulse sped up just from the memory of it. Each case of mead was like precious golden nuggets right now as we hoarded as many bottles as possible. Thankfully, none of the bottles had broken in the fall, and JT had been more upset than anyone.

“It could have been any one of us,” I muttered. “And one case would hardly sabotage the whole event.”

Dan moved closer and lowered his voice. “Look, I didn’t bring this up to upset you. I just want you to be careful. There’s a ton of pressure on you from all angles. You’re exhausted. You’re running yourself ragged because of this guy, and something’s going to eventually have to give. And I don’t want to see you also dealing with heartbreak when JT goes back to his real life in a couple of weeks.”

A tight ball thickened in my throat. “I hear you. But that’s why this is only a summer fling. We both made it clear from the beginning it’s nothing serious.”

This was the biggest joke ever, considering my feelings for JT were as serious as a heart attack… the heart attack I was getting ready to have right now since Dan had pointed out there were only a few weeks left of summer, and one of them would be spent at Brew Fest. JT’s and my season together had dwindled to mere weeks.

I’d been doing pretty well at sticking to the promise I’d made myself in Ogunquit. I wasn’t dwelling on the past, and I hadn’t let myself overthink the future. I was living in the moment, storing up all of JT’s funny texts and every night of hot-as-fuck phone sex like a squirrel preparing for winter.

But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t started scowling at my phone recently for having the gall to display the date in bright lights every time I turned it on or that I hadn’t caught myself staring at a supplier invoice earlier that morning and thinking, “Due August 26th. Will JT be here then?”


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